Gwen Stefani
Love.Angel.Music.Baby.

THE REVIEW

One way or another, reunions always end in tragedy. There are those who take the opportunity to settle some scores, to remove a pebble (most of the time a boulder) from their shoe just as there are those who, on the contrary, laugh about past squabbles and maybe can’t hold back a nostalgic tear. My case is slightly different. In fact, at the end of a pizza night "In loving memory of III A", we said goodbye to each other without showing the slightest sign of emotion. Everything seemed strangely usual. Coincidentally, that very day, my car decided not to start again and I managed to get a ride home for myself and two other poor unfortunates from a friend’s boyfriend. He arrives, we turn around for a last goodbye and immediately set off again. The drama begins.

“Honey, can you put that CD on?! (In a pitiful tone)” asks my friend to her boyfriend with a dialectal inflection and manners that absolutely do not reveal five years of classical high school. “You put it on! (as if the sentence should end with “... what do I care?”)” replies her worthy partner. Misfortune has it that “that CD ” was "Love.Angel.Music.Baby.". Not even enough time to say "My God help me" when the first notes were already coming out of the player. “What you waiting, what you waiting, what you waiting foooooooooooooor! (Expression between ecstasy and playful)”. These were the only words the driver’s girlfriend had grasped from the entire song, but I don’t fear she missed much. Initially, I thought that in the end, Stefani isn’t that unlistenable: a fun electronic pop for those moments when you want to reset your brain and forget where good taste lives. And then there’s that video where a wild Gwen parodies "Alice in Wonderland" in a soft-porn key. I listen with a tolerant attitude. Despite my good intentions, I realize that “What you waiting for” is over when “Rich girl” is already halfway through and I think it’s the tackiest song since “Vola”. However, there’s always that carefully curated video, for which no less than David Lachapelle was called in.

I’m starting to get tired. “If I lower the window can I smoke?” I ask. “No, it bothers me. Do you mind?” she replies. “Of course, I do, you fool” I think, “But do you know that in the video for “Hollaback girl" (Third track) Pharrell appears (Expression of astonishment)???’ I’m starting to understand clever little Gwen. Conscious of coming from a band (No Doubt) that had carved its niche in the history of '90s music, she decided to call to her court the best producers the market offers (From the Neptunes to Austin, from Hooper to Andre 3000) to impress the critics and relied on a super glossy and glamorous image halfway between Madonna and Ilona Staller conveyed through chic videos and eccentric performances to impact the audience. And the music? I’m sorry, but the real stuff, I didn’t even catch a glimpse of it in this album. The drums of “Hollaback girl" are freeze-drying my balls, I’m about to rebel but it stops. And “Cool" starts. "Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeautiful! ” (With a satisfied air) screams that tormentor of mine (we start to degrade her). “Could you lower the volume a bit?" I plead “Why, does it bother you?" she says “If it bothers me? Let’s say the only things more irritating in the world are hives and Rosanna Lambertucci, besides your boyfriend!!” I think. All that’s left is to listen and learn that Gwen remained on good terms with her ex-boyfriend. A concern that was close to everyone’s heart.

After “Cool", I’m being assaulted by two: Stefani and Johnny Vulture together in “Bubble pop electric" on which it’s not worth spending a single word. The same goes for “Harajuku girls", "Crush" and “The real thing". With “Luxurious" Stefani wants to make us believe she has trouble making ends meet due to her inability to resist shopping, while in “Serious" Gwen proclaims herself love-sick and it sounds like a Cindy Louper devoid of flair and a bit silly. “Danger zone” and ”Long way to go” conclude (thank heavens) the CD and are so insignificant they might as well have been written by your trusted deli owner.

I get home and I even have to thank them for the ride. I open the door and think I would have been better off walking and Gwen should have stayed with No Doubt. I turn, say goodbye again. It’s all over.

“When’s the next reunion?”